


A Sight To See, A Vision To Be

by seyella



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Canon Universe, Countries Using Human Names, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Snow Day, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter, no seriously this is just pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 20:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13220916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seyella/pseuds/seyella
Summary: Pure fluff. Alfred and Arthur cuddle a bit, eat some cinnamon rolls, have a snowball fight, and then cuddle some more.





	A Sight To See, A Vision To Be

**Author's Note:**

> I had written this fic for a secret santa thing on tumblr. It's just pure fluff, really. I quite like how it turned out, it took me four different fics to finally decide to go with this one. :) The title comes from a poem I wrote for my friend.

Arthur and Alfred had known each other for quite some time. Arthur was… the first person Alfred had ever gotten close to, really, and he owed him thanks for that. Of course, they had their fair share of trials and errors, but at the end of the day, they still cared about each other more than they could each admit.

Even after hundreds of years, the two were still as close as ever. No matter the persiflage, they were always _Alfred and Arthur_ , and they knew this. Each other’s company was… pure comfort. As long as each of them was in the presence of the other, they were safe, and no one could take that away from them.

At this particular moment, Arthur and Alfred were curled up in bed together, the moon, luminous and bright as ever, shining through the velvet drapes (Alfred had gifted them to Arthur a few months previous, knowing Arthur fancied that sort of thing) and onto the duvet, the two’s exposed legs tangled together.

At one point in the year, Alfred had flown over to the United Kingdom, much to Arthur’s delight, to surprise his long-time boyfriend. After that… well, he just never left. Despite popular belief, Alfred and Arthur did have their time away, as every couple needed. They were immortal, after all. They had an infinite amount of years ahead of them, why the rush?

It was times like these that Alfred enjoyed, just him and Arthur, together, the sounds of soft breaths filling the room. Arthur was laying his head onto Alfred’s chest, little puffs of air escaping him every once or so.

Alfred, notwithstanding of his normal behaviour, had fallen asleep fairly early the preceding night, and in effect of this, had woken up earlier this morning, notably, before Arthur. It was a change that Alfred had not been able to get used to, as it rarely happened. However, when it did happen, it was something special to Alfred. It meant that he could enjoy Arthur’s company, just the two of them together (that, and Arthur was really cute when he was sleeping).

Alfred glanced toward the window. The moon was still visible in the sky, big and bright, despite the close proximity to sunrise. Arthur’s home was absolutely wonderful. Not only was the decor brilliantly opulent, but the location, as well - it was located in a small area, just down the road, a appropriately-sized field of flowers besieging the bricked-home. Of course, at this time of year it was not flowers, but a thick plate of snow covering the ground.

It was peaceful, even more so with the two laying together, not a care in the world.

Alfred brought his eyes toward the man on his chest. He was still sleeping soundly, hand clutching onto Alfred’s shirt. It was quite cute, really. If Arthur had been awake at the time, he would have never let himself look so _helpless_ in front of Alfred. Without thought, Alfred brought his hand down to Arthur’s hair and combed his fingers through it.

He was so pretty… Not only his hair, but his facial features as well. Every detail of his face was an added star to the universe, each one shining bigger and brighter than the last, an epitome of everlasting beauty. His face… was so defined, yet so delicate. Although Arthur would deny, he had little constellations of freckles upon his cheeks. They were light, but just dark enough to be visible on his skin. Sometimes, at times like this, Alfred would gently trace the freckles with his finger, causing Arthur to stir in his sleep and his nose to scrunch up, as a kitten’s would. After that, he would toss and turn,  and it would repeat all over again.

Arthur’s skin was soft, something like silk. Alfred couldn’t help himself but to comb his fingers once more through his boyfriend’s hair, and slowly close his eyes.

There was a quiet rustle of the bare tree branches outside, adding to the peaceful ambience of the room. It looked absolutely lovely outside, the snow falling, resembling something of a sort of twinkling star.

Suddenly, Alfred felt Arthur stir on top of him, a groaning noise leaving his lips. So he was waking up, then? It was about the time he usually did. Although the sky outside was fairly dark, it should still have been about 7:30 A.M., in accordance to the bleak winters.

Arthur’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and the man smiled upon seeing Alfred. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Alfred hummed in return, running his fingers through Arthur’s hair once more.

“How long have you been up?” Arthur spoke, a groggy tone in his voice. The Brit sat up, causing Alfred’s hand to fall from his hair. Without thinking, Arthur intertwined his fingers with Alfred’s, squeezing tight.

At this notion, Alfred grinned. “Just a little bit. I’ve been occupying myself with the snow outside.”

Arthur looked toward the window, eyebrows raising in astonishment. “That much snow? That must be a good 12 centimetres, there’s no doubt about it.”

When Alfred didn’t say anything in reply, Arthur looked over at him, only to find him grinning mischievously.

“Alfred… What do you have in mind?”

“Nothing~!” Alfred sang, a suspiciously large smile on his face.

Arthur lowered his eyebrows, then rolled his eyes. It was best not to question Alfred; he always found a way to avoid even the most direct of questions. A mastermind, he was.

“Oh!! Oh! Oh, Arthur! I forgot! I brought cinnamon rolls, premade, for us to have! They’re Pillsbury, so they’re bound to be good!” Alfred’s face was a compilation of many different expressions, half of them ones Arthur could not even begin to decipher.

“Cinnamon rolls?”

“Yeah! They’re super good, I swear. I even got the big can,” Alfred beamed proudly.

Arthur shrugged. Cinnamon rolls did sound good on a snowy morning such as this... “ Alright. Do they go in the oven?”

“Yeah! I’ll go put them in, just hang tight.”

Alfred gave his boyfriend a thumbs up before practically running out of the room and down the stairs. It was a bit breezy inside the house, but nothing the thermostat couldn’t fix! As Alfred was passing through the dining room, he switched the thermostat up a few degrees, and then strode into the kitchen for the cinnamon rolls.

>>>

The cinnamon rolls only took a few short moments to make, and when they were done, Alfred brought a plate to the living room for him and Arthur to share, two for each of them, four in all.

Arthur was lounging on the couch, watching television. There was never anything good on at this time, so he had put in an old movie from the 1940s, a film in which Alfred had apparently liked. The two had quite a difference in tastes regarding movies, so it was nice when they found something they both enjoyed.

When they were finally finished with the cinnamon rolls, the two cuddled together a bit more, the absence of the plates making the task easier. At this point, the film was only white noise; neither were watching it, and were instead focused on each other.

They spent a few minutes like this, wrapped up in each other’s presence and comfort. That is, until Alfred began to get up (much to Arthur’s dismay).

“Where are you going?” Arthur leaned up, slight curiosity in his voice.

“To put these in the kitchen,” Alfred lifted up the plates.

Arthur squinted suspiciously, “How strange… I don’t recall you _enjoying_ to clean.”

To this, Alfred made a noise quite similar to a “hmph”, rolled his eyes (jokingly, of course), and walked off toward the kitchen.

Arthur thought he was just going to put these in the kitchen, but he was far beyond wrong… In fact, when he returned, he would have a little surprise for Arthur…

Surreptitiously, Alfred opened the back door, quickly adjusting to the cold weather outside, and shut it quietly. The meteorologist wasn’t kidding, it _was_ freezing outside. The snow was falling like bullets, coating yet another thick layer onto the ground.

Alfred walked down the steps, shivering at the bitter weather. Carefully, he reached down to pick up a handful of snow. Much to his delight, the snow was packed, rather than soft. Perfect for a snowball…

When Alfred returned inside, Arthur was still sitting on the couch, watching the television. The film, being only forty-five minutes long, had already ended and was now rolling the credits.

Alfred walked into the room slyly, a simper on his face. Arthur lowered his eyebrows. “Alfred F. Jones, what are you doing?”

“Nothing, just had t’ go put that away, thas’all…”

“Based on previous experiences, I don’t think that’s the case….” Arthur began to slowly stand up from the couch, watching Alfred’s moves. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing, this is how I always..,” Alfred suddenly stopped, watching his boyfriend with amusement. He was currently standing by the couch, both arms at his sides, yet out. It was a funny sight, really. It was now or never. Abruptly, Alfred took the snowball from behind his back and threw it at Arthur, who swore in surprise, shirt now dripping with melted snow.

“Alfred! I swear… When I get to you, I am going to pelt you with so many snowballs, you won’t be able to feel any of your limbs in the morning!”

Alfred began to run upstairs, then turned his head, “is that a threat?”

“You bet it is,” Arthur shouted after him, laughing.

Although Alfred was stronger, there was no way he would let Arthur catch him. Arthur was a no-mercy kind of guy.

When Alfred had reached his and Arthur’s room, he quickly pulled on a winter coat as well as some shoes, gloves, and a hat (which, of course, was sporting the American flag). He had run outside right away, where he would be safe, surrounded by blankets and blankets of snow. Arthur had met him outside in similar wear, winded.

It was Alfred’s territory now; oh, he would definitely win.

Without thought, Alfred picked up a handful of snow and formed it into a ball, before throwing it at Arthur from across the garden.

“Alfred! I swear…” Arthur muttered among himself, picking up his own snowball and throwing it at Alfred, who was caught off-guard by the action.

Alfred’s mouth gaped open as a fish’s would, and gave the Brit an offended look. “Arthur! How could you?” His breath came out in tiny puffs, a resemblance to fog due to the cool air.

While Alfred was occupied in his astonishment with Arthur, Arthur took it as an opportunity to throw another snowball, this one landing on Alfred’s head, causing his cheeks to become even more red than they were before. Arthur was unbeknownst if it was because of the weather or he was embarrassed that Arthur was totally beating him at this...

This went on for another half hour, the two endlessly throwing balls of snow at each other, back and forth, and back and forth.

At one point when they were playing Alfred had found a tree to hide behind, whilst Arthur simply built his own fortress out of the abundance of snow on the ground.

Arthur came out the victory, Alfred having surrendered, unable to beat his opponent. Of course, Arthur took much pride into this. It wasn’t every day he was to beat Alfred at one of his own games (literally).

An hour later, the two were cuddled up beside the fireplace with some hot chocolate, and plenty of blankets. Alfred had his head on Arthur’s chest, nearly asleep from the energetic day they have had, although it be only a few hours subsequent to noon.

Alfred was breathing little puffs of air onto his chest, eyes fluttering open and closed in an attempt to stay awake. Finally, they drifted close and Alfred snuggled deeper into Arthur’s chest, his hair tickling underneath Arthur’s chin.

He really was a masterpiece, to say the least. A dream, a vision, a fallen star, even. How could someone so bright and beautiful exist on this earth, and the fact that he was _Arthur’s_ was just absurd to even think. Arthur felt as if the entire world, the universe, was in the palm of his hands. Alfred was… everything really. And he loved him for that, just by sticking by his side all these years, even if it didn’t seem that way sometimes.

With the thought in mind, Arthur took a breath (not much of an exasperated breath, but more of a relief) and kissed Alfred on the forehead. He… really did love him. There  were a billion stars in the universe, yet he shone the brightest.

Gosh… Arthur felt silly just thinking of such a cheesy thing. Of course, Alfred would love it; he would love seeing his boyfriend act in such a way toward him.

Who knows, maybe Arthur would one day gain the courage to finally speak these words to him? He had an eternity to do so, after all.


End file.
